


My big dragon

by UlsPi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Magic, Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Dragons, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Sassy Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27575033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Crowley, a grumpy wizard, helps the town of Tadfield deal with their dragon problem.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 76





	My big dragon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Davechicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/gifts).



Crowley was on the run. 

Not literally of course. No. Literally, he was casually travelling around. 

Alright, he was on the run, but it wasn't his fault. He was just the best of them mages, and he wouldn't be caught doing the stuff that had been asked of him. 

So there he was, casually travelling. He was casually travelling on the run. There, perfect. 

He ended up in that town because it was just so disgustingly peaceful, far away from every self-respecting mage. Crowley wasn't one of those. 

Some real and conjured gold later, he was the owner of a little bakery, where he locked himself up studying baking. 

Baking was interesting for the first two weeks. 

It was moderately interesting for three weeks more. 

It was incredibly boring for the weeks afterwards. 

Crowley sighed and made a machine that could make any cake anyone might want. It had a place where said anyone could place their money, although the sum was irrelevant. People just had to say which cake they wanted. 

Crowley, in the meantime, just wanted a nap.

***

When he woke up from his nap, he discovered several crucial things. 

First, he had been asleep for about a century. Crowley just shrugged. Good nap, what else could he say?

The next crucial thing was that there was a dragon sitting upon the river that went through Tadfield and supplied the town with most of its water.

Next, Crowley learned that the people of Tadfield had tried sending virgins to the dragon. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. 

He rolled his eyes once more when he learned that the dragon had refused the virgins. Further investigation proved Crowley's suspicions. 

The dragon had been apparently unaware of the trouble he had caused. He just liked the cool water and a good book. Also, the dragon had requested an absolutely impossible cake. Crowley rubbed his hands.

He quickly assembled another cake making machine and had it running mere hours after his awakening. 

As for Crowley himself, he busied himself with his garden. Nothing like fresh vegetables for a good post nap soup. Crowley could take his time, yell at his carrots, nudge the soil and coo over earthworms. He tended to overfeed those, so his earthworms were the fattest and the most effective. Ever. 

After a fortnight and a few, regrettably, bad attempts at making the dragon cake, Crowley was eating his soup, when the machine notified him that the mission was accomplished. 

Crowley nodded and kept on eating his soup. He really had to start growing his own chickens because the ones he had bought from… eeehm… someone in town didn't live up to any expectations he might have had. Well, his own vegetables and herbs had saved the day, but Crowley expected nothing less of _his_ vegetables and herbs, so it wasn't that exciting. Well, not as exciting as yelling at those stupid plants to grow fucking better. And in winter. Or whatever it was now. 

Notified by his machine, Crowley finished his soup, wiped his mouth and, taking the cake, headed to the dragon. 

***

Oh bugger all, he was so handsome - all white, curvaceous, with beautiful blue eyes and - as Crowley was about to discover - a stunning voice. Crowley was fucked, despite his wickedly good cake, but he didn't know it yet. 

The dragon was reading. He was always reading, the bastard. 

"Here," Crowley said, placing the cake in front of the dragon's muzzle, buried deep inside a book. "An edible _A thousand and one night_. Just as requested. Now, please, lift up your arse and let the people get their water."

The dragon slowly lifted his head and blinked at Crowley several times. 

"Oh… oh, you mean I was causing trouble?" The dragon seemed crestfallen. Crowley wasn't ready for such a reaction to his cake. 

So he said, "Eat the fucking cake, ok? No need to bat your beautiful eyelashes at me! Fuck!"

"Language!" The dragon chided and lifted himself from the stream.

"Fuck," Crowley said again, taking in the dragon's body, big and graceful, and oh fuck, those wings. 

"Language," the dragon chided again. He settled in the grass and sniffed at Crowley's cake. 

"Fuck the language! Eat the cake. My machine worked for it. So did I, since the machine is powered by my magic."

"Oh, that's so nice of you," the dragon replied. He read and ate the first page. "Oh… oh… oh, that's scrumptious…" The dragon moaned and behaved overall indecently. Crowley blushed like his beetroot.

"So, what's your name?" Crowley asked, sitting on the grass. 

"I really didn't mean to cause any trouble. Just… the place seemed so cool," the dragon kept eating Crowley's heart and cake. "The name is Aziraphale."

"Aziraphale…" Crowley tried it on his tongue. Not as good as his vegetables, but fuck, so much better than any soup. 

"And you, dear boy? What is your name?" Aziraphale kept eating the tales and making terribly obscene sounds. 

"It's Crowley. It used to be Crawly, but I changed it when I was running away from you know, some stupid sorcerers… Why am I telling you this anyway?" Crowley scratched his head. 

"You have beautiful hair, dear boy. All… auburn. You bring autumn. Is it autumn?"

Crowley made a few unintelligible sounds. 

"Oh dear… are you alright?" Aziraphale asked and stared at Crowley intensely. 

Then he blushed all over his beautiful white body. 

"You're quite handsome, you know," Aziraphale said reproachfully. He ate a whole story.

"Me? Have you seen you? I'm all… bones. And… bones."

"And eloquent too," Aziraphale smirked. Then he realised he'd been eating his book without reading it. 

"So… are you a dragon or are you enchanted or something?" Crowley asked. 

"Oh no, not a dragon. Had to hide from those mages, you know, dear boy…" Aziraphale chewed thoughtfully. 

"Me and you both," Crowley sighed. "But don't worry, angel, they are all dead now. Might have had something to do with my… Nevermind." Crowley scratched his head again. 

"Angel?" The dragon smirked. He was far too smug for his own good. And sexy.

"You're all white. Blocked a river. Caused a lot of trouble."

"I'm so very sorry about it," Aziraphale replied. He didn't sound sorry at all.

"Nah, you're all smug about it. You're lucky you're so sexy, otherwise I would have slain you. Immediately." 

"Slain me… Well, darling, you do slay." Aziraphale busied himself with the cake once again. 

Crowley huffed and returned to his house. He made more soup and conjured some chickens. Being that powerful had its perks. Mostly it had gotten him in trouble.

So he ate more soup.

And made another cake for Aziraphale. It was _Decameron_ this time. 

***

"Naughty, aren't you?" Aziraphale teased.

Crowley lit his pipe and rejoiced in Aziraphale's cough.

"Oh… you… you demon."

"That's what they used to call me, angel."

"Then you're perfect, my dear. I'd never agree with any of _them_." Aziraphale shuddered. 

"Why not turn back into… what you are?" Crowley asked. 

"Oh, but then you won't ogle me, darling."

"You're eating my most complex cake and like it. I'd ogle you fine. Also, you're… sassy. Ok, fuck, bye."

"Language," Aziraphale said to the empty place where Crowley had been just a moment earlier.

***

Crowley locked himself up in his own garden. He made roses obey his will. Stupid bastards all turned white with a shade of blue and some gold. 

Also, Crowley's chickens brought him golden eggs. 

Crowley hated himself for being unable to kill those stupid birds. 

Stupid, stupid birds.

And dragons.

Also, cakes. 

There was a knock on his door. 

Crowley promised to avenge himself on beetroot and snapped his fingers to open the door. 

"Oh… oh, it's very nice in here. Oh, I really like it here." A beautiful man with blond hair and blue eyes walked into Crowley's house. Crowley stared at him. 

"Aziraphale?"

"Yes, that would be me, dear boy." Aziraphale grinned at Crowley. He wore white clothes and had unruly curly white hair. He was exceedingly pleasant to look at, so Crowley did just so. 

"Hmm… I see the ogling hasn't stopped. Good. How about we have lunch?"

"Ngk," Crowley replied. "I have… soup. A lot of soup."

"How delightful!" Aziraphale clapped his hands. 

Crowley busied himself with the soup, while Aziraphale walked around the place. "How very… dark. And demonic. Oh dear, I'm positively trembling with terror," Aziraphale smirked.

Crowley poured a ladleful of soup over his hand. "Fuck!" 

"Oh, do be careful…" Aziraphale walked over to Crowley and took his half-boiled hand into his soft and warm palms. Having examined the burn, Aziraphale looked at Crowley and gently blew over the injured skin, healing it. 

"Aaaargh…" Crowley said. "I should… soup."

"You should definitely soup, my dear." Aziraphale smiled teasingly. 

They ate, or rather, Aziraphale ate and Crowley watched him do so. "I have plenty more of soup. If you'd like," Crowley proposed. 

"You suggest I should sit in soup now?.. I wouldn't mind, to be honest… It's a wonderful soup… Actually, it's evil and tried to harm your dear hand." Aziraphale held Crowley's hand across the table. "Thank you, dear boy."

Crowley harrumphed. "No problem… kinda… any time. If you ever want… cake. Or soup. Or home. Anything." Crowley admitted his defeat and stood up to fetch his sunglasses - to hide his… whatever this was. 

"Why would you hide your eyes, dear boy?" Aziraphale asked, perplexed.

"They are yellow. Snake eyes. I am a snake. Or I used to be." Crowley checked whether he had legs - he did. "Used to be."

"Your legs are beautiful too," Aziraphale added and giggled. "They go forever."

Crowley stared down at his legs again. "No. I'm pretty sure they end. Somewhere. So… you… you can stay as long as you want."

"What a treasure you are, my dear."

"Well… you _were_ a dragon."

"Are you implying that I should guard you? Should I consider you _my_ treasure?"

"I'm no one's treasure," Crowley grumbled. 

"I beg to differ… would be lovely if you agreed to be my treasure. After getting to know each other properly. I think a millennium or two would do…"

_A millennium or two later_

"Darling, the soup was exquisite. Should we retire for the night?"

"A nap would be nice…" Crowley yawned. 

"Sleepy head," Aziraphale chided tenderly. 

"You love me." Crowley shrugged. 

"Of course I love you. Sleepy head…"

They went upstairs. Aziraphale turned into a dragon, Crowley cuddled up next to him, turning into his presumably real form of a very big, very black and very lovely snake. They nuzzled each other's noses - and fell asleep. 


End file.
